


Wine

by sariloire



Series: There's no Shepard without Vakarian [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Mass Effect 2, Oral Sex, Smut, a tie-in to my other fic, pre-Omega 4 relay, their first time together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 04:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7998142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sariloire/pseuds/sariloire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He brought wine, but the feel of Shepard's mouth on his was all the courage he needed.</p><p>[A tie-in to my story 'One day, in the future'. An explicit version of chapter 12, Wine.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wine

Garrus knocked on the door again, staring down at the bottles of wine in his hand. Shepard wasn’t answering. He had been knocking for several minutes.

She had been tense, which was more than understandable, ever since they reached the Normandy and confirmed that everyone was gone. She felt guilty over having left the ship to the mercy of the Collectors, Garrus could see it in her face.

Their first planned night out –which had sounded similar to a date, though he wasn’t sure if human connotations surrounding dates were the same as turian ones so he hadn’t brought up the idea- and it had ended with the crew being kidnapped and the Normandy almost being lost. He felt a pang of guilt when he thought about the crew. He would do whatever he could to help save them.

Garrus felt almost callous for worrying for Shepard’s well-being at a time like this, but he knew her. She wouldn’t be able to let go of that tension until the crew was saved, and there was nothing they could do to save the crew until they made it through the Omega 4 relay.

So he decided that his original plans of sharing wine after their outing were still acceptable, and he would do what he could to ease her tension.

After another knock, he finally let himself into her room, and immediately heard the sound of a shower. He stopped his steps and chose to stand by the door instead, so she wouldn’t think he had been trying to look in on her. A few minutes later and he heard the shower turn off and a few minutes after that, Shepard walked out with her skin red and flushed, from the hot shower if the steam billowing out of the bathroom was any indication.

“Hey, I brought wine.” He said, after Shepard had caught sight of him. She smiled. “Best I could afford on a vigilante’s salary.”

Despite the tiredness in her eyes and the tension in her face, she smiled softly at him, crossing her arms as she nodded in approval. “Thank you, Garrus. I’m sure it’s perfect.”

He walked past her and set the wine on the table by the couch before turning to put on some music –a tip he had read on an extranet site- and walked back to lean against the aquarium.

His mind raced as he tried to remember the other tips he had read on that site.

_Compliment her._

Right.

What did humans compliment each other about?

“If you were a turian, I’d be complimenting your waist or your fringe.” She moved towards him, close enough that he could see a few pieces of damp hair sticking to her neck, where she had missed drying it. “So your, uh, hair looks good.” He reached out a hand and ran it through the loose pieces that framed her face. He saw her lips part with the movement. “And your waist is… very supportive.” He let his hand slowly drop from her hair to the narrowest point in her torso, and traced his fingers along the curve there.

It didn’t hit him until several heartbeats later that what he had said might have been terribly offensive to humans. He hadn’t gotten around to researching what physical attributes they considered worthy of compliments. He was ready to start sputtering out apologies when Shepard reached up and put a finger to his mouth.

“Consider me seduced, smooth talker.” She dropped her hand from his mouth and rested her arm over his shoulder, closing the space between them. “Now shut up and stop worrying.”

Garrus brought his free hand up to rub his thumb along the tired lines near her mouth. She was close enough that he could see the grey flecks in her green eyes. He could smell the still-familiar scent of her hair. His mouth was forming the words of how he wanted something to go right,  _just this once_.

And then her forehead was pressed to his, and his mouth pressed to hers, and everything  _was_  right.

 

* * *

 

Garrus pressed his tongue to Shepard’s lips, and when her mouth opened, he flicked it inside against her own. He felt, rather than heard, a soft hum from her mouth each time he moved his tongue. Her hands had come up to brush against his mandibles, her fingers tracing against the sensitive skin below them.

They broke apart, both breathing hard. Shepard’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes seemed darker than usual. He lifted his hands to run them through her hair, loving the feel of it between his fingers. When she closed her eyes, he pulled lightly on the hair, angling Shepard’s head to better fit his mouth to hers as he pulled her close again.

He felt her fingers brush against the back of his head, under his fringe, and he inadvertently stilled, a shiver running along his back. Shepard pulled back, her arms over his shoulders but her hands no longer on his fringe, looking concerned. “You found one of the few sensitive areas on a turian.” He murmured, answering the question he saw in her eyes.

She smiled in response, and he felt her fingers lightly brush that sensitive skin again. “I wonder how many I can manage to find in one night?” Her voice sounded low in his ears, sultry. And her eyes showed the same look they had had when he pinned her to the table exploring her ticklish feet.

He didn’t have to ask if she was enjoying herself, everything about her _showed_ him that she was.

“Maybe as many as I can find on you.” He responded, sounding more confident in his abilities than he was feeling. He had ran a hand along the curve of her waist twice now, watching for a reaction that never came. He was getting the feeling that humans didn’t have the same sensations along their waist that turians had. Now he let his hands run lower, to brush along her hips. When his fingers moved to her thighs, he finally felt a small movement under his fingers, so barely noticeable that Shepard probably hadn’t meant to do it.

But it was a clue. And he’d be damned if his days at C-Sec hadn’t taught him to follow his instincts.

He ran his fingers back up slowly, and as they dipped more towards the open gap between her legs, he felt Shepard move again under his touch, and she made a small noise that sounded like encouragement. Having only briefly glanced over the anatomical diagrams Mordin sent, he had vague ideas of the similarities between human and turian women.

Well, he had told Shepard he had learned to use his two fingers well. He felt like he needed to live up to the bragging now.

“I think I found the first one.” He murmured into her ear, his fingers tracing along the seam of her pants where her legs joined. He applied a light pressure as he ran his fingers across, and another soft noise left Shepard’s lips. Her hands gripped his shoulders, as if needing support, and since she didn’t appear to be planning on stopping him anytime soon, he continued.

His fingers unfastened her jeans and he pulled them, along with a thin garment he assumed was underwear, down to her thighs, leaving enough room for his hand to work. His fingers traced her opening slowly at first, as he watched her face, ready to stop at the first sign that she was uncomfortable. But that sign never came.

Instead, when he slid a finger into her, and then another, she let out a soft moan and pulled him closer, her face at his neck where he felt her mouth against the softer skin there. They stayed that way for a few moments before Shepard moved her hips against his hand, and Garrus experimentally pulled his fingers out before pushing them back in deeper. He was rewarded with another moan, and after developing a rhythm with the movements, eventually a “ _Christ_ , Garrus, _yes_. Just like that.”

He filed away the desire for that movement being a difference in turian and human women’s biology, and continued the movement, Shepard’s mouth on his throat causing his body temperature to rise more than it already was. After a minute or two, he heard her voice against his skin. “I’m going to clue you in on other spot.” She said breathlessly, and he felt one of her hands on his own, moving his fingers out of her to press against a small round nub nearly hidden above the wetness he had buried his fingers in. He let her guide his hand, as she moved his fingers in circles, applying pressure. “Touching it directly can be a bit too much at times, but like this-“ Her words bit off as he kept up the motion once her hand was off of his.

Deciding it was as good a time as any to show off the reach he had mentioned, he stretched his fingers until they were inside of her again, and pressed his thumb to that sensitive spot at the same time. The breathy _“oh, god, yes”_ that he got in return drew a smile from him. He was aching, painfully hard and straining against the plates holding him back, but this was more important. He wanted Shepard relaxed and languid before they moved on.

It only took a few minutes of his combined movements before Shepard’s hands on the back of his neck tightened suddenly, and her voice went from breathy moans of approval to more urgent _“right there, just a little more”s_ before he felt her contract around his fingers and she arched against him, her head back and her mouth open in a cry. He had never heard his name sound as amazing as it did leaving Shepard’s lips, as she rocked against his still-moving hand.

Once her movements had subsided, he drew his fingers out of her as she pulled her shaking arms from his neck. His fingers were slick from her, he could smell the heady scent of her arousal.

He had never smelled anything so exhilarating.

“I think it’s rather unfair that you made me a trembling wreck without so much as taking your shirt off.” Shepard commented after a few minutes with a slight laugh, pushing away from the wall she had leaned against to steady herself. She tugged him forward by the shirt, and he moved his arms to allow her to pull it over his head.

It didn’t occur to him to be self-conscious or worried about what she would think of being with a turian at this point. He had already proven, to both himself _and_ to her, that he was more than capable of pleasuring her. He watched as Shepard pulled her own off next, along with her half-way off pants and underwear, and a flimsy black band that had been strapped around her torso to hold back her –breasts?- he was trying to remember if that’s what they were called, but Shepard’s hands had turned to unfastening his pants, and he was too preoccupied to focus.

He was still straining against his plates, and it took a lot of focus to not spring out as soon as he felt the air hit his skin when Shepard removed his pants and underclothes. He knew, from the public showers, how human males differed from himself, and he had just started to explain when Shepard pressed a finger to his mouth. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss where her finger had been, and he felt her hands move to his waist as she whispered. “I’m going to figure this out for myself.” And he was being gently pushed back until he felt the back of his legs against the bed, and he fell back to sit on the edge.

Instead of joining him on the bed, Shepard knelt between his knees, her hands in his thighs. “Stop me if anything I do isn’t okay.” Garrus nodded down at her, his pulse racing in his ears as he watched her movements.

She ran a finger across the seam between his plates, it hadn’t taken her but a few moments to guess where he was most sensitive. Or, he thought offhandedly, Mordin had probably sent her some diagrams as well. The next moment he felt his hips move unexpectedly as something wet was on his skin. He looked down to find Shepard moving her tongue along the seam between his plates, and between the feel of her tongue on him and the sight of her kneeling between his legs, his groin plates were shifting and he emerged as she leaned back just in time.

Feeling apprehensive for the first time since making Shepard fall apart with his hand, Garrus watched as she surveyed the ridged, stiff shaft. Finally she spoke, her voice sounding apologetic. “I… don’t think you’re going to fit.”

Garrus felt a very real disappointment, but he wasn’t going to give up right away. “Can we try?” The strain against his self-control was evident in his voice, and Shepard met his gaze. It took a few minutes before the uncertain look in her eyes left and she stood before straddling his lap.

“I hope you looked at those diagrams, because I’m not sure how this is going to work.” She said, a hand running along his member between them for the first time. Garrus was fighting for control, and he wanted to try to make it work before he spent himself in her hand.

He gripped Shepard’s waist and rolled her over, kneeling between her legs. His movements stilled as he looked down at her, her face flushed, her hair spread messily, his fingers pressing into her soft skin. The same image that had been in his mind since that night on the table. That night had given him some ideas, and he was ready to test them out.

He reached a hand to his tip and drew his hand towards the base, spreading his fluid as lubrication. Shepard watched him, her eyes dark and a hand at one of her breasts, rubbing the hard pink tip on her breast. Garrus shifted, and Shepard spread her legs out further, and he took a moment to run a finger along her entrance again.  “Stop me if it hurts, Shepard.” She nodded, and he leaned over her, guiding himself into the wetness he knew was waiting between her legs.

The first moments of entering her was enough to draw a gasp from Shepard and cause him to stop completely as he felt her contract around him, nearly drawing him over the edge right away. When her hands on his back relaxed slightly, he moved in a bit further, and repeated the process each time Shepard’s breathing indicated that she was okay with him continuing, until he had seated himself almost entirely inside of her.

One of her legs had come up while he pushed in, it was nearly wrapped around his waist, resting on his hip spur in a show of flexibility that he couldn’t help but admire. He gripped her other thigh, his chest against hers as they both breathed heavily, adjusting to the new sensations.

Turian women didn’t require much thrusting movement for climax, they preferred the pressure of their partner filling them and, of course, pressure in their other various sensative areas. But Garrus had seen the effect the movement of his fingers had had on Shepard, so he mimicked it with his body, on a much slower pace to give Shepard time to adjust.

The first time he pulled almost all the way out, to thrust back in, Shepard’s back came off the bed with a loud moan. Able to distinguish between her moans of pain and pleasure now, Garrus repeated the motion, raising Shepard’s free leg so that he could push deeper from a different angle. It took several tries, and several more adjusting of limbs until they found the best angle, and Garrus began to speed up his movements.

Noticing the flush spreading across Shepard’s chest, he realized that his chest was rubbing against her breasts with each thrust. Thinking back to her hand touching herself, Garrus decided he had probably discovered another one of her favoured spots, and he moved his hands to her breasts. After hearing a noise of approval, he leaned forward to press his mouth to her chest. The response was immediate, and judging by the fingers gripping the skin under his fringe, he had guessed correctly.

Garrus took one of Shepard's nipples into his mouth, pausing his thrusts while he sucked at the hard tip of her breast. Her fingernails scraped across neck, and he drew his head back, searching her face for pain. He didn't see any.

Feeling her nails on his neck, he brought his mouth to her throat and sucked at the skin. He couldn't get a good grasp on her smooth skin, so instead he nipped at the flesh, tracing the hollow of her throat with his tongue. Shepard's voice vibrated her throat against his tongue, breathless and begging. "Garrus, please." He looked up, meeting her gaze, and she pressed her leg against his hips, trying to draw him closer.

The sight of Shepard begging underneath him nearly undid him completely, and he pulled back to get a better look at her. Her chest was red, but it wasn't just the flush of her arousal. Garrus realised too late that it was the chafing Mordin had warned him about. He pulled out of her completely, and spread her thighs to confirm his worry. She was chafed red, her skin looked raw where his rough skin had rubbed against her. “Wait, Shepard, you’re hurt.”

He felt so guilty, he moved to climb off of Shepard, but she reached up and grabbed his arm. "No, Garrus, don't stop. Please don't stop."

Garrus hovered over her. He didn't want to stop, he was still throbbing hard and had been so close to his release. But he didn't want to hurt Shepard any further. "Let's try something different then." He offered, and when Shepard nodded her agreement, he took her hand in his own and turned her over on the bed, pulling her onto her knees.

Pressing against her back, Garrus positioned himself again at her entrance and pushed in, hard and fast. He pulled her hips back to meet his thrust, pushing in as deep as he could. Shepard threw her head back when he pushed faster to answer her cries and soon she was panting and pushing back against him to meet his movements.

Garrus knew he was close, he was gripping Shepard's hips so tight that he knew she would have marks. His face was buried in her neck, her back slapping against his chest every time he thrust into her. Their movements were more erratic, both chasing their release, and he reached his first and pulled out just in time to spill himself over his shirt that he managed to grab in time. Shepard lasted only a few moments longer under his touch before she was crying out and arching her back against him again.

He moved off of her and let himself down onto the bed after making sure he had cleaned up well enough. Shepard rolled over, looking up at the ceiling.

"Interesting way for blowing off steam.” She said after several minutes, after her breathing had leveled out.

Garrus chuckled, reaching out to pull her closer. He didn't know how to tell her that what had happened in this room was so much more important to him than everything that had ever happened with that turian soldier. "I never said it was a good way to _rest_." He trailed a hand down her back, and rested it on her hip, speaking with an afterthought, "I didn't realize human women could climax more than once in that short a time. Turian women generally can’t.”

"We can, if we or our partners are skilled enough." She responded, and Garrus looked down to see her smiling up at him mischievously. He chuckled again at the sight.

He leaned his head down to speak low into her ear. "Is there a limit? Or can you just keep going all night?

“Well, that depends on how creative you can get.” She responded, her voice just as low as his. He felt her leg brushing against his own, the heat coming off of her was nothing compared to the heat he felt in her gaze. He felt her hands brush against his waist, and he caught them in his own.

“I’m nothing if not creative, Shepard.” Garrus said, before pressing a kiss to her open mouth before sitting up. Shepard sat up along with him, but Garrus pushed her back on the bed and moved to kneel on the floor, between her legs like she had knelt before him. Pushing his hand between her thighs, he spread them apart. "Want me to show you the best use for this long turian tongue?"

He noticed the way she adjusted her legs when he flicked his tongue slightly with his words. She was nearly squirming in her seat. When she nodded, he gently pushed her back to lie down, and moved his face to the fine hair he had noticed where her legs joined.

It was darker than the pale hair on her head, and slightly curly. And he had noticed how soft it was when he touched it. But now, parting the soft, short hair with his nose as he moved his tongue along her entrance, he knew the best part of it was the smell. Garrus was surrounded by the smell of Shepard’s arousal, which seemed even stronger now instead of having diminished after coming twice already.

The moment his tongue found the wetness his fingers had first touched, Shepard began to move in time with his actions. When his fingers joined in, as his tongue circled and sucked against the tiny round nub she had guided him to, her hands found the back of his head, under his fringe, and clutched at the skin again. He pulled back just enough to look up at her, her back was arched and her eyes closed.

“Does this feel good, Shepard?” He had never tried it before, but it wasn’t so different from one of the ways turian males pleasured turian females. He had been counting on their similarities to make it feel just as good for Shepard.

“It did until you stopped.” She answered, throwing a leg over his shoulder to draw him closer. He chuckled, pressing his mouth to the raw skin inside her thigh, and continued with his tongue. A few minutes later and Shepard was gasping his name again, her legs clutching him to her as she writhed under his touch.

Pulling away after her legs stopped trembling, Garrus leaned back to survey Shepard. He felt a sense of pride at how he had managed to remove every bit of stress from her face in the time he had been in her cabin. He sat on the bed next to her, watching as she slowly opened her eyes to look at him.

“You can brag about your reach anytime you like.” She said, languishing on the bed, staring at him through half-closed eyes.

“Your flexibility’s not so bad, either.” He replied lightly, intertwining one of his hands with hers. “I liked the feel of your legs over my shoulders.”

“Believe me, I’ll be glad to put them there at any time.” She responded with a tired laugh.

They stayed that way for a while, until Shepard sat up to look at the clock next to the bed. “We’ve still got most of an hour.”

“You could try to get some sleep.” Garrus offered, his eyes following her as she moved, appreciating the way her waist bent as she stood and stretched.

“You’re spent?” It took a moment for her question to register, as it didn’t translate properly at first. Then when he got the meaning, he felt a slight increase of heat rising in his neck.

“Well, turian men generally need a recovery time before they can… go again.” He thought it was the same way for human men, judging by the stories he had heard them telling, but maybe he had been wrong.

Shepard sat back on the edge of the bed next to him, a hand resting on his thigh. “Human men are the same way,” He felt relieved, even as she continued speaking. “but there are some ways to… speed that up, if you want?”

When she moved to kneel between his legs again, Garrus could only let out a short “S-sure.” before she was running her fingers along the seam between his groin plates. It wasn’t very long until he felt his plates shift and he was in her hands. Not completely hard, but he knew he would get that way soon enough under her touch.

She stayed on her knees, her hands running along the length of him. Every one of those fingers, the extra fingers he had thought so useless, tracing along the ridges and veins that ran from base to tip. And when his fluid started beading at his tip, she used her thumb to trail the sticky drops along his length so that her hands could move faster with less friction.

After a few minutes of this, feeling himself hard and stiff in her hands, Garrus managed to pant out. “Shepard, I’ll never say you have too many fingers again.” She smiled, her hands tracing along him again. “Or even _think_ it.” He added, closing his eyes to her touch, trying to focus to make himself last longer.

“Can I try something, Garrus? I think it will be new to you.”

He didn’t even open his eyes, he bit back a groan as her fingers traveled along him. “Feel free.” He managed to get out. It was only a moment later that he felt something wet on his tip, and his eyes opened just in time to see Shepard take him into her mouth.

His hand went instinctively to the back of her head to pull her away if necessary, but he didn’t feel pain or the sharpness of teeth. Just the warm, wetness of her mouth surrounding him. He thought back, just for a second, to something Mordin had told him. ‘ _Sexual acts not performed between_ turians’ indeed. He never would have let a female turian anywhere near that area with their sharp teeth.

Instead, his fingers threaded through her hair, feeling her head move as she moved her mouth along him. When her lips tightened around him and he felt her sucking on his hardness, his hips jerked, and Shepard pulled back with a cough. He hurriedly let go of her hair and moved back, but Shepard moved his hand back to her hair. “It’s fine, Garrus, just try not to go too deep or I’ll gag.” As if to prove that she was okay with it, she immediately returned her mouth to his tip, taking it inside once again.

Between her mouth, tongue, and hands, Garrus soon found himself nearly shaking with the effort to hold on to the small amount of control he had left, at one point he felt the talons of his free hand tear through the sheets on her bed and he muttered a quick promise to replace them. He was pushing on the back of Shepard’s head, forcing himself deeper into her mouth, careful not to go too far. When he knew he was close to climaxing again, he spoke up. “Shepard, wait.”

She immediately pulled back, her eyes dark again with what he could see now as desire. It thrilled him to know that he caused that look, and he wanted to draw it out for as long as he could. He pulled her up by the arms, pulling her to lay flush on him. “If this is our last night alive, thanks to this damn suicide mission,” He began, pressing his face to her neck, breathing in her scent. “I want to make it last.”

“So do I.” She responded, and pulled him onto his side. He felt her hand on his length again, guiding him into her as she curved a leg over his hips to pull him in deeper. There wasn’t the fast urgency this time, instead he moved himself in and out, feeling the softness of her hands on his back, pulling him to her. His own hands pressed against the soft skin of her back, wanting to feel every inch of her against them. Eventually their movements quickened as they peaked, one after the other, but then slowed again as Garrus pressed his forehead to Shepard’s, drawing her as close as he could.

When he checked the clock next, he saw they would be to the relay in 15 minutes. Rousing Shepard from the drowsiness that had taken over them both, he carried in the armour he had thought to set outside her cabin door. After her shower, he took a hurried one himself, and exited the bathroom to see Shepard examining her thighs.

“I see Mordin was right. As usual.” She sounded rueful, running a hand along the red, raw skin. Garrus found the bottle he had brought with him and held it up.

“Good thing I came prepared, then.” He motioned to her legs, as she held out a hand. “Let me.”

“You don’t have to do this, Garrus, I can rub the ointment on myself.”

“I’m the one that caused it, I should at least do what I can to fix it.” Shepard laughed at his words, and obliged, putting one foot on a chair as he knelt with the bottle.

As his fingers traced the areas of redness, Garrus couldn’t help feel a little guilty at having caused Shepard pain. But instead of apologizing, he pressed a kiss to her thigh before covering the skin with the analgesic lotion. And after her thighs were covered, he moved on to her back, and even her torso and breasts when she laughed over the fact that they had become irritated as well.

Once she was lotioned up, and declared herself pain-free, they both hurriedly pulled their armour on and exited the cabin. When Shepard pressed the button on the elevator, she turned to Garrus and pulled his head to hers, pressing their foreheads together for just a moment before pressing her lips to his ready mouth one last time.

“Goodbye, Garrus.” She whispered, her hand gripping his so tightly it ached.

“Goodbye, Shepard.” He whispered back, his hand returning the pressure.

 

* * *

 

He could still taste her on his tongue.

That’s what went through his mind when their eyes met across the table and she gave him lead of the second fire team to help storm the Collector base.

They were headed into what had always been, from the start, a suicide mission. Shepard had asked him so long ago, after rescuing him on Omega, to walk by her side into hell.

He had always known he was a bad turian, who couldn’t follow a bad order.

But damned if he wasn’t a good solider that would march into hell at his commander’s side.


End file.
